


Bridging the Gap

by Eve_Louise (Stregatrek)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Bashir is a cheesy spy with cheesy gadgets, Garak likes to humor him, M/M, Pre-Slash, holodeck adventures, they'll get there eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 21:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7138895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stregatrek/pseuds/Eve_Louise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were in Paris this time, dressed in loose mid-20th century clothing, in pursuit of a rogue agent. There was an island in the middle of the river, with buildings that would be suitable for the dramatic confrontation scene Garak had come to expect from Julian’s programs. As they crossed towards it, Garak noticed something odd about the railings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bridging the Gap

“Doctor?” He asked, stopping and taking one of the odd metal boxes in his hand. “What’s this?”  
Bashir paused. “Paris is for lovers,” he said, with a tiny quirk at the corner of his mouth that looked oddly sad to Garak.  


The Cardassian tilted his head slightly. “I’m afraid I don’t understand; is your translator working properly?”  


Shaking his head, Bashir laughed. “Sorry, that was… it’s an old Earth saying. Those are locks, put there by people in love. You can see the initials on some of them, look,” he took a heavy bluish one in his hand and gently traced the scratched letters K+S on the surface.  


“I don’t understand,” Garak admitted.  


“Neither do I, really, but people still do it to this day. I think it’s something about enduring love, and of course it’s a symbolic gesture. Humans are like that,” he smiled again and turned back to the island in the middle of the river, long shadows beginning to creep through the buildings as the sun set. “Come on, we have to get over there or we’ll miss our shot at Agent Nine.”  


“Lead on,” Garak said, musing over the strangeness of the locks. _I suppose Humans ARE like that… ___  


“The last clue just said Ile de Saint-Louis,” Bashir recollected as they stepped off the bridge. Garak grabbed his elbow to stop him from wandering into traffic. “Oh, thank you, I suppose I was distracted,” The doctor patted his hand briefly, turning away to frown at the island before them. “It’s not an especially large place, but I’d still feel better if we had a place to start,”  


Trying not to stare questioningly at the strangeness of Julian nearly walking headlong into a road, Garak agreed. “Yes, of course- I think that perhaps we ought to proceed to a vantage point? After all, a weapon so large as the one we’ve been sent to deactivate can’t possibly be completely hidden.”  


Julian turned back to smile at him. “Excellent idea. Perhaps that spire?” He gestured, and Garak dared to hope that they could climb the outside, rather than making their way up the inside of that very thin, undoubtedly cramped tower.  


“It does seem to be the highest point on this island,” He nodded, setting off toward the grayish height, struck once again by the contrast between Human and Cardassian architecture. While the spire itself might not have looked out of place on his homeworld, the statues and crenellations adorning it were far too fanciful and gaudy. He turned to say as much to Julian, only to find the doctor already staring at him speculatively. “Doctor? Is something wrong?”  


“Hm? Oh, no, not at all. I’m sorry.” He offered a rueful smile that didn’t look entirely genuine to Garak, who was not only well-practiced in spotting these things but quite familiar with each expression that passed across his dear doctor’s face. “Just- erm, thinking about some experiments I left running. The time lapse is critical, but I always worry that someone’s going to accidentally knock them over.” He shook his head at himself, and Garak decided that this was not the time to press for honesty. Not that he had any particular right to it, anyway.  


“That’s quite all right, my dear. Would you like to pause the program and go check on them? I’m quite sure that Paris will wait, and I’d rather you weren’t so preoccupied as to wander into the street again.”  


“Oh, no, Garak, I am enjoying myself, really. Just a little distracted. Sorry- I’ll do my best to focus,” he smiled sheepishly, and Garak opted for a light and teasing tone in reply.  


“I would appreciate that, doctor, as I doubt that the disarming of this weapon is going to be a task where distraction is excusable.”  


Bashir chuckled. “Well, if you’re going to be so in-character, don’t you think you ought to call me Julian? After all, I’m not a doctor here.”  


A little thrill ran through him, as it always did when Bashir asked him to use his first name. “No, you’re a spy- and one who apparently uses his real name. Really, Julian, have I taught you nothing?”  


“Ah, have you got something to teach me? Is this your admission that you do know more about spying than you let on?” The teasing light was back in Bashir’s eyes as they approached the building with the spire.  


“Quite the contrary, my dear; I simply presumed that if one’s identity was important to protect the first thing to do would be to change one’s name. After all, even in the tailoring world many invent aliases for presenting their designs on the galactic scale, just to avoid unwanted attention in their personal lives.”  


“And do you?”  


He raised his eyeridges innocently. “I daresay that most of the galaxy is not particularly keen on Cardassian designs at the moment, so my anonymity is virtually assured.”  


“A shame, really, they don’t know what they’re missing.”  


“Neither do you, if the state of your off-duty wardrobe is anything to go by,” Garak quipped lightly, uncomfortable with the way Bashir was watching him. It looked so… fond. He wondered if he was finally losing all objectivity. Seeing things as he wanted to see them rather than as they really were had never been a weakness of his before he met Julian.  


“Oh, you wound me.”  


“Be careful not to let the blood show, at least not before we find this Agent Nine. It wouldn’t do for the enemy to see you bleed.”  


“Speaking of which.” Bashir stopped outside the spired building, tilting his head back and cupping his hands around his eyes, peering up. “I don’t think there’s a way to get there from inside the building. How do you feel about climbing the outside?”  


Keeping a mask over the relief he was feeling, Garak inclined his head. “Fine with me, doctor, though the sides of the building do look rather smooth. How do you intend to get a grip with that soft human skin?” The doctor had teased him before about the reptilian climbing ability of Cardassians, and here was a perfect moment to return the favor.  


Unfortunately, Bashir had come prepared, and offered a bright smile as he held up his wrist. “Grappling hook inside the watch. Really, Garak, I am a spy. You have one too, if you’d care to do this the human way,”  


“How fanciful,” the Cardassian snorted. “Very well.” He really had no desire to give the doctor any more reason to tease him, nor to take off his boots and use his clawed toes to scale the building.  


“Just press this button, here,” Julian took Garak’s wrist lightly, and Garak focused his attention forcibly on the watch, on the place he was to press and the angle necessary to hook a crenellation, rather than the mammalian heat of Bashir’s touch or the fact that the doctor could likely feel his pulse creeping upwards.  


He watched as Julian took aim, looking around covertly to be sure that no one was paying them much heed. There were very few other characters present, though a bateaux-mouche was floating down the Seine beside them. He hoped the lengthening shadows were enough to conceal their silhouettes as they climbed. “Coming, Garak?” The doctor called.  


“Do you think it wise to do this before sundown?” Garak answered, carefully firing the thin rope concealed in his watch. _Very odd, to put a grappling hook in a watch. Wouldn’t a belt be better? More secure, less likely to dislocate a shoulder if used in a tight spot. Not to mention that the technology of the time could hardly have created something like this, much less in quantities sufficient to supply their spies with. ___  


“Oh, it’s probably alright. After all, if someone calls the police we can escape from custody, and if Agent Nine sees us we’ll most likely be captured and taken to where we want to go anyway.” He smiled over his shoulder as Garak cautiously climbed the building with the ridiculous watch rappelling line.  


“True, the villains in your programs never do seem to shoot to kill.” The Cardassian commented, letting the memory of their first shared spy program hang between them for a moment. “This really is a terribly inefficient way of climbing, isn’t it?”  


“If you’d talk less, we might be there by now,” Bashir teased.  


“My apologies, doctor,” Garak said, hauling himself more rapidly up the side of the building to make a point.  


Unfortunately, Bashir had far less bulk and caught up quickly once he recovered from the apparent surprise of Garak scaling the wall at such speed. “I thought I told you to call me Julian,” his friend smiled, and Garak smiled back, wondering yet again at the doctor’s quick reflexes and surprising strength for such a reedy human. Of course, he has his suspicions as to their origins, but he would hardly say anything if it might make Julian uncomfortable spending time in his company.  


“Of course, Julian,” he smiled politely, the smile that he knew was just a little more affectionate than he meant for it to be. Julian wasn’t the only one who was shockingly bad at concealing truths.  


Finally, they reached the roof, and Julian took a moment to rebalance and catch his breath, though Garak noted that he didn’t seem to be having any trouble with it in the first place. “Beautiful, isn’t it,” the doctor gestured back at the city, the Eiffel tower visible over the rooftops of the strange architecture. All that iron, elegantly curved- it looked a little like a Cardassian government tower, or even like one of the pylons of their station.  


“Yes, I suppose it is,” Garak acknowledged, the buildings odd in the half-light but sill so distinctly human. “Hadn’t we better get up that spire? I can’t see the roofs of the buildings across the island.”  


“Mm, we are running a bit short on time,” Julian turned away from the city and seemed struck by something for a moment, his eyes shining and lips curling into a soft smile, but when Garak turned around to look the same direction there was nothing to see but more skyline. Perhaps something on that side of Paris held a special allure for the human. 

“Come on then, up we go,” He took hold of the metal structure, a thin and ornate spike, and began to climb. Rationally, Garak knew that the holodeck safety protocols would stop Julian from falling to any serious harm, but he still felt the urge to climb directly below the doctor in order to catch him if he fell.  


Shaking himself slightly, Garak began the ascent on the other side of the spire, quickly catching up to Bashir’s careful hand-over-hand climbing. “What is that?” He asked, gesturing at a relatively smallish building near the other bank of the island. His eyesight was good in the low light of the fading sunset, but being unfamiliar with old Earth design concepts he wanted to check that his suspicions were correct. “It seems to me that the walls of that particular building are nothing more than a façade. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I doubt that it was common practice in this region to leave roofs off of buildings.”  


Bashir frowned, training his eyes on the structure in question. “That’s odd. It doesn’t look like that building was finished… but everything on this island has been here for years.”  


“Perhaps we ought to investigate?”  


“I think you’re right,” Bashir smiled, and looked down at his feet, beginning his descent. If he were here alone, Garak might have simply shifted his grip and allowed his scales to protect his hands as he slid down. He did want to show off in front of Julian, he admitted to himself, (irrational, but there it was) but he certainly didn’t want to be caught showing off, and so he climbed down the slower, human way.  


“Oh, look,” Bashir said, pointing to a door set carefully into the roof proper. “Now we don’t have to drop down the side of the building.” He pulled it open and peered inside. 

“Good thing, too; I’m not sure my knees could have taken it.”  


“After you, my dear,” Garak inclined his head, and Julian smiled at him before disappearing into the narrow hallway. Following him, the tailor was pleased to discover that there at least was light in the small passage. “Do you think anyone will try to stop us?”  


“I’d imagine that they’re closing up for the night- if they were even open today. I’m not sure about the days services were held,” he frowned slightly.  


“Services?” Garak echoed.  


“Yes, it’s a church. A religious building.”  


“Ah, I see. I hope we’ve given no damning offence by clambering about on it,”  


Julian laughed, as Garak had hoped he would. It was so nice to hear the doctor laugh. “To the people running it, maybe, but they’re only holodeck characters.”  


They had to stop talking momentarily, as they reached the base of the stairs and pressed into the shadows, listening for any approach. Well, Garak counted on Bashir’s superior hearing, preferring to visually catalogue their surroundings and taste the dusty air, filled with the engineered scent of life. The holodecks certainly were thorough.  


“I think we’re clear,” Julian whispered to him, reaching for his wrist and giving it a light squeeze which seemed to be some sort of signal. Garak tried not to dwell on it.  


“Then lead the way, my dear.”  


Julian slipped across the floor, unlocking the door with Garak close behind him. “Should be easy enough, but once we get there we might have a hard time getting in.”  


“I’m sure we’ll think of something, once we’ve had a closer look at the building. There always seems to be an open window or easily-incapacitated henchman in these programs.”  


Chuckling, Bashir nodded. “Alright then, let’s go,” he set off down the streets, lamps flickering on around them. Garak walked quietly beside him, watching Bashir’s face in the shadows of the oncoming Paris night. Already, the city was starting to light up. He admitted that he understood the locks on the bridge a bit more now- on a night such as this one, he supposed it was fairly obvious that Paris was for lovers. He sighed very softly.  


“Are you alright?”  


“My dear, I had no idea human hearing was so sensitive,” Garak feigned surprise. He knew quite well that most humans would not have picked up his small sigh, but Julian’s hearing seemed to be better than average. Like so many things about him. “I knew it was better than my own, of course, but-”  


“We can usually hear it when a friend seems down.”  


“Is that what that sound means to you?”  


“Garak,” Julian looked at him sideways with honest and endearing concern. “If you’re bored, or you don’t want to be here…”  


Garak took pity on his friend. “On the contrary, my dear doctor, I was simply sighing in relief that the temperature is not as realistic as the rest of the simulation.” Indeed, Bashir must have been careful to set the temperature higher than human average, since Garak was only mildly chilled from the onset of night. It was a plausible lie, anyway.  


“Oh,” Julian smiled brightly, and Garak ached to take his hand. “Well, good, I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions- I tend to be a bit of a worrier. And I know the holodeck isn’t exactly your favorite place.”  


“I quite enjoy our little adventures, doctor, you needn’t worry.” Hm. There must be something to the old human adage about honesty being easier in the dark.  


“I’m glad to hear that, Garak.” Julian’s voice was quiet, and his eyes seemed almost too focused on his friend’s face. “After all, I almost always need a partner.”  


_Am I imagining things, or was that double meaning intentional? _“I believe this is the building, just ahead. May I suggest that we step into this alley so as not to attract the attention of that gentleman loitering just outside of it?” Garak took Julian’s elbow and sidestepped smoothly into the break between two buildings, peering out at their target.__  


“Come up here,” Julian whispered, gesturing to the rusting ladder set into the side of the building they were hidden behind. He began to climb, the ladder shaking.  


“Perhaps you had better go alone,” Garak whispered back, eyeing the run-down ladder mistrustfully. “I will circle around and see what I can see from the back of the target.”  


“Meet back in ten minutes.”  


Garak nodded, smiling briefly up at Julian, before slipping out like a shadow and making his subtle way to a new vantage point. He tried to stop his thoughts from wandering, but in the rising moonlight he could see the shine of hundreds of locks along the railing of the bridge they had crossed, and some small fanciful part of his mind wondered what Bashir would do if he were to suggest adding their own. _Probably nothing complimentary… _he admonished himself, scaling the side of a building to get a look at the back of their target. Other than the guard on Bashir’s side of the building, there were two windows which looked as though they could be easily pried open, a guard standing beside a locked door, and a guard on the roof of the building that backed up to the target, which was so close it was nearly touching. If he were making his own strategy, that was the option he would go with.__  


Across the rooftops, he thought he could just make out Julian’s silhouette, and repressed the absurd momentary urge to wave at his friend. Instead he turned and made his way back down the building, looping carefully through the streets to return to where he had left Bashir.  


“Anything interesting?” Bashir asked quietly, standing close to him.  


“Did you see the guard on the neighboring rooftop?”  


Julian nodded, his features beautiful in the shadows and soft light. “I thought that would be a good angle.”  


“Then we agree. Shall we?” Garak stepped back, eager to remove himself from temptation’s path. They slid along the face of the building, watching the guard in their line of sight for any reaction, but he gave no indication that he saw them.  


As they turned down a side street, Julian took his hand and pulled him suddenly into another alley. “Wh-” Garak started to ask, but Bashir held a finger to his lips, not releasing the Cardassian’s hand. Rather, he used it to pull his friend deeper into the shadows.  


“This way,” Bashir pulled him along, and Garak went. After a moment of silence, during which the tailor didn’t think his thoughts had ever been louder, Julian stopped and released him, still standing close to whisper. “Sorry. Heard someone coming. I think if we climb up here we ought to be able to reach the target.” He turned away and contemplated the brick wall in front of him, apparently oblivious to the blood thundering through Garak’s ears and the way his knees seem to be shaking. _Simply from holding hands; how embarrassing! It wasn’t even meant like that, and you know it. Get ahold of yourself, Elim. ___  


“I suppose we ought to climb it, then,” he tried for a steady tone, reaching out for the uneven building. Bashir found another ladder- and Garak made a mental note to ask him why all these Earth buildings had ladders built onto the sides once he’d calmed down. He took a deep breath and began to climb, using places where bricks had fallen out, uneven bits of rock and mortar. He reached the top of the building just after Bashir did, and they dropped flat, looking toward the target.  


Between them and it stood the building with the guard on the roof, and Bashir communicated through a series of small gestures that he would take the guard out. Just as well, in Garak’s opinion; the less violence the doctor saw him perpetrate, the better. Julian rose gracefully and ran quietly across the rooftop, jumping the small distance between buildings and landing a square right-hook to the guard’s jaw that sent him to his knees. Garak joined him, uncomfortable with the unfamiliar activity of jumping roof-to-roof. A Cardassian agent would do it differently, had more patience than their human counterparts. It might involve long minutes of stretching oneself across so narrow a gap, slithering over quietly rather than risking the noise of a rapid flat-footed leap.  


“Ready?” Bashir asked.  


“Quite,” Garak responded, and the doctor jumped the gap between the building they stood on and the target, landing carefully on the thick brick wall without a roof. Garak followed, and they peered downward together at a large dome that looked like nothing so much as an old van de Graaff generator. “It doesn’t look as though it’s on.”  


“No, it doesn’t…” Julian was scanning the room at large, and he nudged Garak’s arm gently, pointing at stairs leading downward. The Cardassian nodded, and followed Julian, but his scales seemed to be creeping, and he stopped on what had undoubtedly once been a second floor but now was nothing more than a rickety balcony. Julian proceeded to the floor, and flipped on the lights. Wired against the walls, they provided no more illumination than candles might have, but it was enough for Garak to see the surprised expression of the woman standing at the control panel on the other side of the room.  


“Agent Bashir, isn’t it?” She asked sweetly.  


“Nine?”  


“The very same.” Folding her arms and leaning against the panel behind her, she didn’t seem concerned that an agent from her former organization had found her. “Where is your partner?”  


Julian frowned, glancing behind himself. “He was supposed to meet me here. I assume that one of your guards got the better of him.” Garak smiled softly at the easy lie.  


Bashir handled the diversion skillfully, and Garak watched from the shadows as he edged his way into a position for a surprise attack, some small part of him pleased that he hadn’t lost this particular skillset, as neither Agent Nine nor Julian appeared to be able to detect him. The dear doctor really did a wonderful job of holding the rogue agent’s attention, and when Garak got the drop on her- literally, slithering down from the one-time second floor to capture the woman with barely a tussle- Julian broke character and clapped for a moment, his face shining with a grin that made this whole silly spy program worth it. This was why Garak kept accompanying him on these ridiculous adventures, kept partaking in a mockery of what he would never really do again. When Julian smiled, Garak stopped feeling ridiculous in his human clothes, running about on a holodeck pretending to be worse at the job than he really was.  


“What do we do with her now?”  


“I suppose we could handcuff her and fly her back to England to be punished.” Bashir said.  


“If that’s how the program goes,” Garak answered with a smile, ignoring the struggling of Agent Nine. The programs always ended so climatically, he was surprised that they didn’t have to fight off underlings or disarm the weapon at the very least.  


“I’ve never played this one before, but I would assume that’s what we’re intended to do.” Agent Nine writhed, and Garak changed his hold, huffing in annoyance. “I don’t suppose you have anything in that watch that could knock her out?”  


“Actually-” Bashir tapped the heel of his shoe against the floor and a tiny needle slid out of the toe, which he stuck into Agent Nine’s thigh. She slumped over immediately, and Garak hefted her over his shoulder.  


“Thank you, doctor.”  


“Julian.”  


The Cardassian smiled, feeling too much gentleness in his expression. “Of course. That was very nicely done, Julian.”  


“Shall we go?”  


Even if the program wasn’t going to force any kind of dramatic completion of the mission, Garak was loathe to be less than thorough. “We’ll have to deal with the guards. What would you propose we do about this weapon?”  


Julian bent and yanked a handful of wires out of their places, then swept his hand over the control panel, pressing random buttons and causing some beeping error messages.  


“There. That ought to be good enough until the MI agency can send someone to dismantle it.”  


“Wonderful.” Garak shook his head at the simplicity. In the old days, he probably would have deconstructed the entire thing, thrown some parts in the river, vaporized others with a disruptor, possibly started a fire in a neighboring building and let it spread with a “broken circuitry” plausible excuse. This seemed almost childish in comparison, but then the objective of the game wasn’t the point anymore. The point was the company. “Then lead on, doctor. Julian.”  


He left the building, taking a moment to fight the guard outside the door, and Garak admired his form and fluidity. Really, fighting shouldn’t look so- appealing. “I’m surprised at you. Doesn’t the Hippocratic oath apply to holograms?”  


“I know, I always feel bad about that part,” Julian looked honestly rueful, and for a moment Garak regretted his jibe. “But then I’m also Starfleet, and we have to defend ourselves sometimes.”  


“Of course,” Garak inclined his head. “Should we expect to be stopped, carrying a body through Paris?” Julian was watching his face distractedly in the light of the streetlamps again. “Hm? Oh, yes, probably. Er- I suppose we could take a car?”  


“Can you drive?” Garak asked, surprised.  


“Well, sort of.” Julian laughed, and Garak found himself stepping closer. “Come on, there ought to be something around here.”  


A few streets away, they found a small car with the window rolled down just slightly. “Here we are, then,” Bashir smiled, pushing his hand through the window. “The convenience of a holodeck,”  


“You know, I really think there ought to have been a better extraction plan.” Garak commented.  


“There was, originally, but I wanted to erase the superfluous characters, and the one sent to get us was a bit… much.” Bashir said it in a muted voice, to the car rather than to Garak, still working his hand through the window to reach the lock.  


“Oh?”  


“I prefer it when we can play through uninterrupted.” He pulled sharply and the door unlocked. “Ha! Got it,” He grinned. “Go on, put her in the back seat, I’ll drive.”  


Garak complied, hardly listening. “When we can play through uninterrupted.” _Dear doctor, are you possessive? _The thought brought an odd fluttering sensation to his chest, and he wanted to smile. _Perhaps the simplicity of the program… __did you just want to show me Paris? Dear Julian, you need only have asked. _He hoped it was dark enough that Julian wouldn’t notice while he schooled his features back into a more opaque expression. After all, those were big assumptions to make from the simple act of erasing characters. And wanting to play through uninterrupted could just have easily been a reference to the first time Garak had joined him in the holodeck. Hm. “Are you sure you know how to operate this?”____  
__

“Fairly sure. If I could just get it started…” he was fumbling with wires under the dashboard, and after a nearly a full minute of affectionately watching his attempts, Garak decided that he could come up with a believable excuse for knowing how to connect a starter. After all, the workings of some of his sewing machines, or the lawn mower from his days as a gardener, were similar.  


“Move over, my dear,” He said, wedging his shoulder between the seat and the floor, reaching for the wires and batting Julian’s hands away lightly. “This looks quite a lot like the electric tools they use to garden on Romulus. Leaf blowers, lawn mowers, you know.”  


“Is that so?” Julian sounded amused, and Garak knew he didn’t believe him.  


“Mm. Quite.” He focused on splicing two wires together. “We may have to open the hood as well,”  


“If you say so, Garak,” Julian’s voice was smooth, like a caress through his hair, and Garak wondered why ever the holodeck had to simulate night so well. It was distracting.  


_Were even the guards real? They did go down awfully easily... perhaps they too were superfluous... Even Agent Nine only put up the token struggle. _He got the car started and folded himself gingerly inside, the build of the old earth seats not quite what he was used to. Julian slid behind the wheel and pulled them delicately away from the kerb. “I assume we have a private plane?” He tried to keep his tone light as they crossed the bridge again, but he couldn’t help looking at the locks as they passed. The moon over the seine was brilliant, but the moon reflected in Julian’s eyes was even better.  
__

__“Quite private.”__

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Garak/Bashir fic so any feedback is more than welcome! I love the idea of Cardassians being more lizard-y than we get in the show, hence the wall-climbing thing (like a gecko haha).


End file.
